


A kiss on the crossroad

by ryybonko



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Bane Chronicles - Sarah Rees Brennan & Cassandra Clare & Maureen Johnson, The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alternate Universe, Bottom Alec, Crossroads Deals & Demons, Deal with a Devil, Demon Deals, Demon Magnus Bane, Developing Relationship, F/M, Good Parent Asmodeus (Shadowhunter Chronicles), How Do I Tag, Hurt Alec Lightwood, I'm Going to Hell, Immortal Husbands, M/M, Magnus Bane & Catarina Loss Friendship, Magnus Bane & Ragnor Fell Friendship, Mild Language, Minor Character Death, Multi, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Magnus Bane, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, Timeline What Timeline, Top Magnus Bane, Unhealthy Relationships, Warlock Magnus Bane, What Have I Done, all warlocks live in hell, poor Camille, she won't know what hit her, there is no warlocks on earth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-08-06 00:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16378037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryybonko/pseuds/ryybonko
Summary: When Alec makes a deal, he wants to protect his siblings, nothing else. He gains much more in process.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I saw my good friend's sketches and the idea was born. English is not my first language so I am in desperate need of a beta! Help me!  
> Hope you will like my work. I can't promise to update regularly... But I will try.  
> I need comments to function.

 Magnus was bored. As usual, really. There was nothing to do here, in Edom, his homeland. He turned his head, looking up. Between the floating candles, burning green, the red sky was seen in the holes of the broken roof. His - more like his father's, but who cared? - his castle was too old and destroyed to be a nice place to live, yet Magnus couldn't care less about this. The broken roof was full of holes and sometimes, when his insomnia was too much to bear with, Magnus stared into the ever-red cloudy sky, watching  _asmodei_  flying and playing, like the animals they were. No one could believe it, but  _asmodei_  were playful and quite nice - of course, only with Magnus and his father. They were like pets that Magnus never remembered to have. Maybe a long time ago, while he was living in the mortal realm, he could have had a pet, but he didn't remember. He didn't remember anything from his childhood, and he didn't want to. Father found him when Magnus was just a toddler and cared for him ever since.

The wine was good and Magnus sat in his armchair, warm and comfortable, too lazy to do anything except for sipping his drink and leafing through the book he'd taken from one of the stair-step bunches of books skattered all over the room. For eight hundred years he read and drank and flew in the sky on the backs of  _asmodei_  and nothing else. The era of ancient war was long gone and nothing did disturb the peace of Edom anymore. Every part of the realm was divided between the Princes of Hell and Lilith, and no one wanted to meet or to make war now. The life was stable, too stable, a backwater of stability and laziness and stagnation.

Magnus sighed. Too bored, too lazy and blase, he waited for something to happen, to destroy this empty life he was forced to live.

He snapped his fingers, sending small droplets of magical fire fall over his knees. Nothing happened.

 **\- Ow, auntie Lilith and all her breed,**  - Magnus tried to brush away the glitter that was now sparkling on his trousers, but it only bedraggled his palms. He jumped, knocking the book of the arm of the chair and nervously twitching his tail. The cute tassel on the end of it moved in annoyance. Magnus loved glitter, he really did, but sometimes it was too hard to clean the clothes.

Asmodeus, nursing his own goblet of wine, appeared in the doorway, silent, as the Devil he was. He never approved what Magnus did with his life, drinking like there was no tomorrow and lazying.

 **\- Oh, Magnus, child,**  - father shaked his head and sighed heavily. He picked up the book that Magnus dropped on the floor and put it on the small table near the armchair.  **\- Sometimes I wonder, why didn't I leave you in the mortal realm. Maybe, it would be less boring for you.**

 **\- Fuck, father, of course not. I would be dead there,**  - Magnus couldn't agree with his father's words. He knew that with his yellow demonic eyes no one would want to have anything in common with him, even his mother, and he read too much about the inquisition to be optimistic about his life in the Middle Ages.

 **\- Not now,**  - Asmodeus squeezed his shoulder with his too-hot hand.  **\- Why don't you find a deal, maybe, some desperate man or woman waiting for someone to solve all their problems and wishing to give up their soul? If you will find a contractor, then you could come and go from Edom as you wish, no more bound with this wasteland.**

That was, actually, not a bad idea, Magnus thought. Even if Edom was never a wasteland. A guest, someone coming and fleeing after mere seconds in Hell, surely, saw Edom as a gigantesque plain, but Magnus saw the unique beauty of the place. The reddish skies, cloudy and stormy,  _asmodei_ , dancing in the air, whipping up black ash and sand with their tattered wings, the ground, fervent under the feet... After staying in Edom for too long, he was used to it, learned to love what he saw, and his body was more demonish than when he was born. And now, not taking in attention the wings and the tail, his magic was too bonded with Edom's  _ley-lines_ , and that limited his stay in the realm of mortals. He could be there only bonded with someone, the deal fully sealed and legit. And, well, something in his heart wanted that.

 **\- Maybe,**  - Magnus agreed.  **\- That actually sounds nice...**

 **\- If a bit scary?**  - smiled Asmodeus, his expression predatory with yellow eyes dangerously flashing.

 **\- Of course not!**  - Magnus looked at his father resentfully, cheeks a bit red with embarrasement and fury. Confessing a weakness or a fear here, in Hell, between Greater demons, even if said Greater demon was his parent, was foolish.  **\- I am just anticipating my stay there. What has already changed in a chilliad I wasn't there and what yet to come?**  - he mused.

 **\- Well, you'll find out,**  - shrugged Asmodeus.  **\- After all, I don't know that either.**

A magical flame, greenish and beautiful, appeared in his hand, twirled a little and turned into a battered scroll. He tossed it towards Magnus and the latter had to catch it.

 **\- After all this time the fledgeling, finally, leaves the nest. Oh, my heart will be in vain till we will have a chance to see each other again,**  - in mock sorrow lamented Asmodeus, but Magnus just laughed.

 **\- Then maybe you shouldn't give me that idea, father?**  - he asked, even if he knew already that nothing could stop him from leaving Edom now.

So, that was it.

*******

Magnus safely tucked the scroll in the inside pocket of his dark-grey overcoat, re-styled the blue strikes in his fringe and snapped his fingers so his make-up would be more steadfast. If he had to return to the mortal realm after all this years in Edom, then he had to be sure he was handsome as Hell. After he made sure his appearance was stunning, as usual, he turned the mirror so now it faced the wall. Knowing of some demons capable to walk or at least see through reflections, he wanted his chambers, the place he used to be totally, undeniably his, to stay intact. Demonic blood in his veins made Magnus egoistical, possessive and greedy. What he considered his possessions couldn’t be touched by someone else ever again. And being the only (alive) child of Asmodeus, the Prince of Edom, wasn’t doing anything good for this side of him. Everyone, beginning from the smallest, lowest demons, mere worms under Asmodeus’ feet, ending with his father himself, tested his limits, wanted Magnus to snap. That was what kept everyone on their toes here, in Hell: fear of death and oblivion. Magnus was sure, his father was tested like that in the past, before he raised to the Olympus of power. And he was also sure that, if father will show a weakness one day, someone will try to coup.

He glanced over his room for one last time. He won’t be able to return here for quite a long (not in comparison with eight hundred years he was already living here, but none the less) time.

His chambers were not brightly lit, candles and fireplace could never give enough light in the ever-dim daylight of Edom. He had books all over the place, a low table, full of his make-up bottles and vials, was placed near his giant bed – just a thick mattress on the floor, bestrewn with cushions and blankets, and the walls were covered with patterned silk. Two windows set in narrow deep niches were barred crosswise. The house, however burned and demolished, was still pretty okay to live in. Huge, hollow halls and chambers, stairways and window bars made of black iron, loop-holes narrow, walls thick, even if destructed and war-ravaged. The house looked like a stronghold, poorly disguised as a palace.

When he walked out of the house, some of the  _asmodei_ gathered around, not knowing exactly what is happening, but feeling something will change soon. Others circled in the sky, piercing shrieks echoing and ringing. Magnus scratched the big, ugly head littered with excrescences of the one landing near to him and  _asmodei_ purred loudly, like a giant monstrous cat. The chain on its neck tinkled slightly and Magnus made a wry face.

 **\- Oh, don’t do that, you slobbery animal,**  - warned it Magnus, but  _asmodei_ already licked all over his face and Magnus thanked his foresight that forced him to put a spell so his make-up would be more steady. After the demon was once more calm and obedient, Magnus climbed on its back and spured it. The demon raised in the air quite gracefully for such an enormous beast and with a few flaps of his strong wings headed to the east. Magnus had to make sure he was far enough from the center of Edom, where Asmodeus’ lair was and the seal was in its’ strongest, to try and break away from here.

People in the mortal realm could still summon demons – lesser ones, of course – to make deals with them, but leaving Hell by themselves was hard, especially for greater demons. The seal was nearly unbreakable, containing them in their realm. Magnus, however, had a plan: to squeeze through the realms, pretending to be lesser than he were, hiding his real power under a feeble exterior. He could do that, could exudate through where others could only look through a chink. His wings and tail disappeared completely and the yellow predatory glow in his eyes dimmed. His dark demonic magic curled behind his ribs, making the heart to beat slower and his hot blood to become colder. He looked more human now, a bit too-perfect and flawless, but human. Now he had to feel a pull of a summoning and use it to set himself free.

After  _asmodei’s_ paws touched the black sand, Magnus dismounted, patted its’ tuberous ugly head and let the demon go. It took off, the ash whirling under its huge wings, making Magnus close his eyes, shielding them from sand, and disappeared over the horizon.

A pentagram appeared under the Magnus’ watchful gaze, blazed up with purple fire and, without further tarry, he stepped into the portal. His flesh burned and charred, but Magnus knew it was only his imagination, Edom trying to understand if he was worthy to go through the Hell portals.

Going to and out of Hell was always painful and frightening, it was a part of the routine. Everyone coming here had to be dead and the portals here made sure to do that. Demons and their kin could use not the portals, but weapons: their bodies moldered away a few minutes after their death just to appear in Hell and return to life. No one died here forever, eventually everyone returned to Hell.

Finally, the darkness dispelled. Magnus found himself standing in an awry pentagram, distorted runes written on the beams of the star. But, even if poorly drawn, the pentagram could contain a demon… A lesser one, not someone as powerful as Magnus was.

 **\- Satan, I cry out to the-eee!? –**  a man standing near the portal squeaked and stumbled backwards, startled with Magnus’ abrupt appearance in the center of the pentagram. It seemed like he didn’t think that his summoning would be successful.

Magnus’ eyes flashed superciliously. He looked around and fetched a sigh.

 **\- What do you want, mortal?**  – he asked, voice quiet and calm. Magnus hoped this mortal won’t be too crazy, so they could reach an agreement, after all, starting his life in this world with killing was not what he wanted, but with every passing second the hopes grew dimmer.

*******

Justin gritted his teeth. He knew that demons looked upon the mortals with disdain, but he summoned Satan himself, the strongest demon of them all, and he was completely under his, Justin's, will. The old book he bought at the bouquiniste didn't lie.

Satan was attractive, his tanned skin was flawless, facial features delicate and sharp. His serpentine eyes gleamed like two little suns, like two pools of molten gold, and hair were perfectly styled. His body, his vessel was human, but something gave his appearance a god-like flair. No one could mistake him for a mortal.

Justin tried to calm down and to stop his hands from shaking. He was not a young fool, he knew that demons were cunning and cruel. He knew better than to believe the Satan himself, but this was his last chance.

Justin was in his fifties, not too old, but already a bit weary and tired, body not as fit as it was just twenty years ago. He was broke, his young wife left him in search of someone richer and he didn’t have any children. Summoning a demon was the simplest way to better his position, even if he didn’t believe it at first, but now, seeing something entirely  _non-human_ appear in the pentagram, his atheism shattered as glass.

He took a deep breath.

*******

Boring.  ** _Boring._**

The mortal was greedy and dumb as fuck. Magnus yawned and stepped forward, making the human shut up and stumble backwards. Pentagram lines sparkled like torn cables, blue sparks chattering and dying out on the cold cement floor. Transparent smoke raised and dissolved in the air.

 **\- Well, where is your bravery and demands now? Or did the cat get your tongue?** – asked Magnus mockingly.

 **\- N-no, milord,**  - his voice trembled and his chubby face was white as chalk. The man was terrified so much that he couldn’t think of trying to escape or fight for his life. Well. That was explainable, Magnus thought. All souls that he had seen in his father’s realm were just petty and niggling worms. And there were so much of them – millions, billions of souls, suffering and writhing in pain for the glory of Edom and, personally, Asmodeus.

And yes, Magnus knew he could be one of those poor souls, eternally bound to Hell, tortured to produce power for his father’s needs. If he was born half a thousand years earlier, he could share the fate of his brothers and sister whom he never knew. All of them were long gone, their souls one of the unnamed power batteries, the only difference from the human ones – how much power they could give. In the era of wars between greater demons, their children were just resources, something that helped their parents in life and death. But later, when mortals were finally fed up with demon battles and shadowhunters and monks placed a seal on all parts of Hell, having a half-blood child became a privilege.

Half-blood children or  _warlocks_  were unique. With one parent mortal, they were not bounded to Hell too strongly. They still needed a contract to stay on Earth if they were taken to Hell too early and didn’t form a strong connection with Earth’s  _ley-lines,_ like Magnus was,  but they could hide between mortals and they could travel between the realms even with the seal in place.

Now Asmodeus had only him, Magnus, other children dead by his own hands – not that the demon ever regretted that – and even loved Magnus in his own strange demonic way. He never did anything too harsh to him, after all, and Magnus was still alive and very powerful. Magnus didn’t deceive himself: when seal will be destroyed (and with demons’ patience and abilities it will be, one day) and Asmodeus could have more  _warlock_ children, he will be as good as dead. But he hoped to become more powerful and independent when that time would come, so he could fight for himself.

In Hell’s concepts, Asmodeus was lucky. He had a child, strong and loyal to him. Never had Magnus ever tried to take over the throne of Edom. For example, Azazel was not so fortunate: his daughter tried to organize a coup and take the throne of Dudael to herself. That didn’t end well, of course. And Lilith never had a child, ruling the land adjoining to Edom. But greater demons didn’t try to start a new war. With Hell sealed, it was now not as beneficial as in the past.

Magnus despised people who gave up if their foe was stronger and more imperious than them. Fighting for his life was the first thing he learned in his father’s lair. Even with his friends, children of smaller demons not so mighty as himself he was always careful and wary. He trusted them with many things, even, under certain circumstances, with his life but always assumed the worst. That helped him so far.

So this worm of a human disgusted him even more now.

 **\- How… Disgusting,** \- he sneered.  **– And you, filthy insect, was trying to summon and control Satan himself? You couldn’t even contain me in your shitty attempt of a pentagram and I am weaker than my father… For now.**

Magnus’ hand soared up and he caught the mortal by his throat in the blink of an eye. The man wriggled in his grip and clawed his palm bur Magnus’ hold was strong.

 **\- There, there, -** Magnus mockingly whispered, touching the mortal’s forehead with his free hand. Reading the memories was not hard at all: this human was weak and doughfaced.

The human began to scream in pain not long after Magnus rudely invaded his mind and, sighing in exasperation, Magnus send him flying with one heavy throw. The mortal collided with the dank stone wall, his neck crackled and he calmed down, dead.

Magnus was angry. He was  ** _furious_** _._  The man – Justin – didn’t know anything about the  _Downworld._ He just found a book and tried to perform the ritual not knowing about the consequences. Well, Magnus couldn’t complain: that set him free from Hell, after all. But because of that he couldn’t predict anything. Did shadowhunters know about a  _warlock_  coming to Earth? Were there even shadowhunters anymore, or did they slowly die out when the greater demons stopped coming to the mortal realm? Well, the lesser ones, like  _amphisbaena_ or _raveners,_ still could squeeze through the cracks in the seal, but the aura of the greater ones was too big and powerful for that. That meant the shadowhunters were now less powerful than the first ones, the ones that sealed this world a thousands of years ago. Or Magnus hoped they were.

He never met a shadowhunter before. Even the worst and abhorrent of them never ended up in Hell: most of the abominations were usually destroyed by angels after their death, even their souls eradicated. Magnus was curious but wary. He knew that he needed to go because the summoning usually produced too much power that was easily tracked and a shadowhunters’ patrol could be here at any moment. But Magnus lingered. He snapped his fingers, small flames circled around him and sank under his skin, making him invisible and untraceable for any power-searching gadgets or charms. Just in the time, it seems, because in a minute some shadowhunters appeared. Or, at least, Magnus thought they were. Dressed in black leather, runes all over their skin, making Magnus purse his lips and wrinkle his nose – while runes on someone else never acted as deadly on him as drawn and activated on his own skin, they were still a part of what is opposite to everything he stays for. Runes were a concentration of angelic powers, all solid light and purity. Magnus winced.

Of course, they didn’t notice him, the dolts they are, their gazes slipping over him or looking straight through. That was a shame, really: reading about the shadowhunters in the ancient books at home he pictured them more skilled and interesting. Well, there went all his hopes. Not that he really wanted to fight with someone as mighty as the legendary warriors he read about; after all, they managed to defeat most of the greater demons, didn’t they? But he never ran from his own battles.

The shadowhunters studied the pentagram carefully, one was down on his knees looking at the runes and others scattered all over the basement to try and find something else. One of the hunters tried to find a pulse of the mortal, but Justin was already cold.

 **\- Whatever had he summoned, it killed him almost instantly,** \- mumbled the shadowhunter and Magnus barely hold himself back from snorting scornfully. “It”, really? That was not a nice thing to call someone when said someone was in the same room with you, thank you very much. Not that the hunter saying that knew about Magnus being here.

 **\- What do you think it was? –** asked the one studying the pentagram. He stood up and shook the dust off his trousers. **– I have never seen that kind of a pentagram before, but it couldn’t be someone too powerful. After all, the runes are all wrong.**

Well, they were right enough to summon Magnus here.

 **\- I think he was a primitive,** \- shrugged the only woman in the group. She was drop dead gorgeous, Magnus noted, twenty or a bit more years old, jet-black hair long and wavy, face beautiful, if a bit arrogant.

 **\- Then where could he find the ritual? He couldn’t think out about that for himself,** \- one of the hunters said and Magnus hastily stepped forward, picking up the book that landed in the dark corner next to him when he killed the mortal. The woman immediately turned around, suspiciously narrowing her eyes.

 **\- What happened, Maryse? Did you see something?** – All the hunters instantly formed a circle, standing back to back and raising their weapons.

 **\- A movement…** **No, I think that was just a play of light** **, -** she shook her head, but the hunters didn’t let the weapons down.

 **\- Are you sure, Maryse? –** asked one of the younger men, eyes dark-blue like Magnus had never seen before. He sounded like he was completely under her thumb, Magnus snorted in amusement.

 **\- Of course I am, Robert,** \- the woman, Maryse, was furious. Apparently, she really didn’t like being looked upon.

Well, it seemed like Magnus couldn’t learn anything new from spying after the hunters. He wanted to follow them to their lair – how was it called, the Institute? – but they lingered, circling all over the chamber, trying to find something else.

 **\- Look, Valentine! –** Maryse excitingly exclaimed. The dark-haired, stern-looking young shadowhunter came and looked at the footprints that could be seen quite easily, where Magnus stepped over pentagram’s chalk-lines. – **It looks like footprints. And someone walking here was human, wearing normal boots. It can’t be a demon, can it? –** she asked worryingly.

\- **But why the alarms in the Institute went all mad, like there was a horde of _raveners_ or more? – ** scoffed Valentine. It looked like he was considering something else, something to close to truth for Magnus’ liking. The man was dangerous for his wellbeing in this world, Magnus decided. It appeared that he had to be careful around the hunters. Some of them, at least.

 **\- Maybe there were two primitives doing this ritual, whatever it was, and the power surge was not enough to summon anything, but enough to make the alarms go off? –** suggested Robert, whom Magnus already had forgotten being here.

- **That theory is as good as others. But what will we write in our reports? –** Valentine’s face was dark and pensive.

All of the hunters shrugged nonchalantly and one of them, the dark-skinned man, made his way to the door. There was nothing else for them to investigate.

Magnus followed, careful and wary. He didn’t want to be caught because of his own careless mistake. He chased after the shadowhunters, light and fast, running on the roofs and jumping from on balcony to another. He never came close enough for them to hear any suspicious sounds but  also didn’t lose them from his sight. Actually, it was easy to do so.

When the hunters stopped in front of an old abandoned church, Magnus was thunderstruck by the sheer beauty of the most difficult runes’ complex he had ever seen. It was no magic, just the angelic runes that send shivers through Magnus’ spine. He saw the true colors under the guise of a destructed building, quivering and trembling like air in a hot day but at that moment the runes flared to life and he had to shield his eyes with his hand not to be blinded by Institute’s wards. The distinct sound of alarms blaring up could be heard now and Magnus had to flee not to be caught.

 **\- Oh, fuck,** \- he sank on the ground in a dark alley, out of mortals’ sight. Magnus closed his eyes and rubbed his face furiously, flashes still appearing behind his eyelids and nearly blinding him every time. His head throbbed in pain. – **Oh, Lilith and all her filthy kin!**

Cursing and growling a bit helped to cease his annoyance. He had all the time in the world now, he could find a method to percolate through the fucking angelic wards and shields without outing himself as a demon offspring. But first… First he needed to find himself a contractor. He didn’t feel the pull trying to return him back to Hell yet, but he knew that was just a matter of time.

Magnus stood up and shook the dust and splashes of mud off his trousers with a small flick of his wrist and a flash of magic. A moment and nothing showed that barely seconds ago he was sitting on the ground, growling and sputtering in frustration. He was once more collected and calm.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to complete this chapter, so find the words "He was right. The man happily signed the contract" and that will be the added part! I will try to post full chapters from now on. Sorry for all the inconvenience I caused.

Magnus strolled pensively along the streets. The sky grew darker and darker, and the alleys were grimier and dirtier with each step he took. Magnus turned his head, mesmerized: there never were so many people, so much _life_ in Edom. He looked around, attentive and intent, noticing the details no human could see.

The signboard just on the opposite side of the road attracted his attention, flashing with neon colors. The bar behind the gaudy sign was a typical hole in the wall, dimly lit, with fetid smoke swirling just under the ceiling.

 **\- Are you grown enough to be in such places, son? –** the bartender jokingly asked, but never the less poured the drink when Magnus waved his hand.

The thing called “tequila” was quite nice and “martini” even better. Magnus drank five of them already and some of the patrons looked at him askew. He heard them betting on the glass count he will be totally drunk, and giggled. Even if he looked lightweight and a bit overdressed for this place in his embroidered button-down and tight leather pants, with necklace and bracelets lightly clanking as he moved, his demonic legacy didn’t allow him to get drunk. Sometimes he couldn’t even get tipsy, actually, and that was a real shame.

As he learned, the city was named New York and a part of Magnus wondered, where the Old York was then? The bar he had chosen was on the outskirts of the city, where all the rabble gathered. It was a good place to start his search for a contractor.

*******

Valentine sighed. The Institute was buzzing like a stirred-up anthill, like a wasps’ nest. Everyone was worried and uneasy, from the Inquisitors to the small children that even didn’t have the runes yet. Everyone was ready to battle: two alarms in one day, mere hours one after another, made all of the hunters tense. Small quarrels appeared and died down here and there. But no one knew for sure if the alarms were something to believe to, even the Silent Brothers just rolled their shoulders and didn’t give any useful information.

Valentine knew that the alarms were strong enough to suspect a huge horde of demons coming to this world. But where could they be now?

Demons usually were just mere beasts, brainless and dumb as fuck. All they could do was cause chaos and wreak havoc, killing people brutally, leaving a trail of dead, torn bodies and pools of blood behind. It was a simple job, to find a rouge demon: look for a strange death, a massive attack – it will be there, feasting on corpses. But now… Everything was now questioned and checked through and through. Valentine looked around, not willing his thoughts becoming known to Silent Brothers, but they already disappeared in the meandering passages of the Institute. The thought was simple , but sent tremor down Valentine’s spine. He suspected, his face was white as chalk, too. What if… What if all the stories were true? About Greater Demons and their ways, about the era of ancient wars, when they could come to Earth and do whatever they wished, killing and torturing everyone on their way?

Valentine knew that Greater Demons actually existed, but no one ever saw any of them and all the scrolls and books from the war era were long gone and destroyed. There were myths and horror stories, but no one believed in them anymore.

He shook his head. The Greater Demons… What they were? Were they a totally different species, unlike the types of demons he had already seen? Were they sentient? Were they old, ancient even, wise or bloodthirsty? What they abilities were, what could they do to a mortal?

There were too much questions and not enough answers. But the scariest and the most important question was this one: did a Greater Demon come to the mortal realm today? Did the footprints on the floor of a dirty basement – ordinary footprints, not a burning marks – belong to it?

…

Was it okay to call a Greater Demon “it” or did they have a gender?

Valentine shook his head more fiercely. His thoughts became too strange. What if the Greater Demons were sentient or had a gender or anything at all? His job, his fate was to kill every demon ever appearing on Earth and to get rid of all the demonic scum. That was what his father did, and the father of his father, and everyone in the Morgenstern family line up to the Jonathan Shadowhunter. That was his predestination. And he knew he would do anything to do it.

*******

Magnus leaned on the table and looked around from under his eyelashes. A thin smile appeared on his lips. He knew he could seduce anyone in this room to sign the contract with him.

He gingerly touched the scroll securely sitting in the breast pocket of his overcoat. It was his treasure, his only chance to stay in this realm. Nothing, except for seraph blades, angel runes and his own magic, could destroy it. Without the scroll all of the unclosed contracts would be broken and all the souls not claimed yet would be unattainable for him. Yes, he could make another one, but it will take years, decades even.

The scroll still didn’t have any names in it.

 **\- So, what a domestic boy like you could be doing here?** – Magnus’ thoughts were rudely interrupted, when a drunk man came to stand near to his table. Magnus jerked up his head and looked at him with disdain. Were people so dumb to come near him? Well, he knew he would take everything he could from this poor soul.

Magnus looked up with a clearly derisive sneer on his face and the man stumbled back but seemed to collect himself and scoff.

 **\- Well, I wanted to see how do people live,** \- he calmly explained, knowing that the word “people” fell from his lips with a clear flair of contempt. **– I am not impressed, you know.**

 **\- Then maybe something else will impress you! –** The man said angrily and Magnus blinked with the most faux look of innocence he could manage. Oh, a bar fight? That was something he read about but never had seen for himself. He never thought he could provoke someone so easily. His eyes flashed, a fierce yellow reflection of his father’s eyes and the man’s mouth fell agape. He lost his will to fight instantly, not sure what he had seen. The other patrons lost all interest to the happening when Magnus waved his fingers and a small, nearly invisible droplet of magic disappeared in the air.

 **\- Maybe,** \- Magnus agreed. **– your soul, for example. What do you want for it, mortal?**

The man nearly fell on the opposite chair, his lips trembled, but in his eyes Magnus could see the greedy gleam. It was too easy and not interesting at all. He didn’t think he needed to hear what his pray would say. Money, fame, long life – that was all humans ever asked, it seemed. It was his second acquaintance in the mortal realm, excluding the shadowhunters, and it was all the same.

He was right. The man happily signed the contract, not really checking the price. Magnus knew that the soul and the concept of the afterlife was alien to almost everyone on Earth. Well, that was a mistake Magnus didn’t want to correct: he felt already the ties binding him to this realm through the soul of the mortal. He could have more, of course, and he was going to find more fools so his ties to the _ley-lines_ of this world would be even stronger.

\- **Wait for the changes, mortal. But remember that your soul now belongs to me,** \- warned Magnus, getting up and making a bee-line to the exit. He didn’t want to stay here more than he already had to.

Next bar was all the same, neon lights covering the dark and grimy place filled with men who had gone to seed. Well, the barkeeper here asked for his ID, whatever it was, but Magnus just clicked his fingers and everything was alright once more.

He had to have so many things – the ID, something called health insurance that someone on the next table mentioned, even a surname (and what the Hell was “surname”?) to blend in with mortals. And he desperately needed to blend in, not to attract attention of the hunters because his life would be so much troublesome with that.

 **\- Surname, surname…** \- Magnus sipped from his glass, lost in thoughts. **– What am I? A child to name?**

Magnus was the one to come up with his name, with the thought of being great one day and he didn’t even remember the name that his mother called him, back in the days when she still had some love for her not-entirely-human child in her poor heart.

 **\- What father did say that one time when I ran from home to ride an _asmodei_ for the first time? –** muttered Magnus and the man next to him eyed him strangely, not being sure of what he heard. – **Ah. “Magnus, child, the bane of my existence”. I remember it now.**

That was a fond memory, something from his long-gone childhood. Even now Magnus in many things was dependent on his father, after a whole eight hundred years of life. Maybe, the warlocks were more childish and grew slower than any other species, or, maybe, it was just because of Edom laws. After living there, he could kill a demon, big as a mountain and more fierce, than a fire storm, he could lie and weave his magic with such consummate skill, that humans could call him an ancient pagan god, but in smaller, more usual for mortals questions he still was like an overgrown child. There was no time in Edom, dying from natural causes was never heard of and demons lived for eons and eons of human years, while mortals tried to do everything in a short hundred-years-life predestined for them.

A part of his mind actually thought that he didn’t change anything when coming to the mortals’ realm. He still had his trademark glass of alcohol in his hand and didn’t do anything to make his life more bright and active. He suspected, that his father could do much more in the few hours he’d already been on Earth, but, honestly, couldn’t care less.

So, that it was. Magnus Bane will be the name he will introduce himself as now.

*******

– **Is your house good enough for a prince of Hell, mortal?** – smiled Magnus quite nicely, even if a little predatory. Human’s eyes widened comically.

\- **What?..**   **–** he began to ask, but Magnus’ smile widened and he clicked his fingers. A spark of magic flew down and the mortal’s eyes dimmed and he nodded. – **Yes. Yes, of course. I invite you,** – he muttered the needed words. Magnus was not a vampire who couldn’t come in without an invitation – that was a myth, of course – but some of his magical wards needed that for being placed properly.

– **Show the way,** – Magnus spread his hands. The human – Magnus didn’t even tried to learn his name – stood up awkwardly and moved to the exit. Someone from a dark corner (not like it was a particular corner, after all. Al the corners in this bar were dark) called for him, but he didn’t even turn his head, completely under Magnus’ spell. After all, Bane had to sleep somewhere, he still was half human and needed a good bed and a nice breakfast, not containing blood or the souls of his mortal foes, next morning.

The apartment was on the smaller side, clean and quite homey, the woman’s hand could be clearly seen in the knitted napkins and pictures on the walls. The woman came to greet his husband and the happy and surprised expression on her face became just surprised and even a bit irritated in mere moments. She was surprised to see her husband not drunk, not reeking of alcohol and returning home before midnight, but she surely thought of Magnus as of one of her spouse’s drinking buddies. Magnus huffed an irritated sigh.

Bane didn’t wait for her irritation to show not only on her face, but in her shouts, too. The spell easily placed on woman’s mind, she was as weak-willed as her husband. Of course, Magnus didn’t expect for the spell to stay long. A few days, give or take. For a longer influence, maybe, a life-long one, he needed a volt and a ritual. He didn’t want to stay here for too long, so he didn’t strain himself.

Later, eating a pizza – and yes, Magnus did trick a courier into thinking that the order was already paid for – he questioned his slave-mortal and his wife about the world and how it had changed in the hundreds of years he’s been in Edom. And while they didn’t know so much about ancient history, they surely granted some indispensable information about contemporaneity. Money, telephones, politics – everything was so strange and new and Magnus found himself a bit lost in this all-new world. It was quite nice, actually, with all the new and tasty food, equality between races and genders (Magnus still had some memories about his mother not being able to look right in the eyes of his supercilious stepfather) and all the new books, written in a half of a millennium.

It was worse that these mortals didn’t know about shadowworld, too. Magnus knew, of course, that all of the shadowworlders were in hiding, but he didn’t have any clues now. No mentions of faeries, of vampires or other mythic creatures, except for fairy-tales and myths. It irritated him deeply. He needed someone of his kind desperately, just to not lessen himself, trying to act like a human. He didn’t want to stay in this grey ugly world of primitives, he needed magic to function.

 **\- First of all, I need a place to live, something better than this shithole,** \- Magnus sighed and rubbed his tired face. – **Then I will think about the others.**

Never meeting anyone except for mortals, nephilim and demons, he couldn’t even perform a searching ritual now, because it needed a strong memory or a part of a needed object. When demons were summoned to search for something, they used the summoner’s memories and the tie their emotions and feels created with the said thing. It couldn’t be done now.

- **I already feel like all this idea was a total crap,** \- shook his head Bane.

*******

The night was bearable. Not in the best of places, of course, but still not as awful as Bane feared. Even if Magnus did magic the bed into something more comfy and nice, it just wasn’t _home._ His enhanced senses were totally not useful, harmful even, because he heard and sensed too much.

 **\- I need somewhere to return to, a flat in a nice place, with not so much of noisy people living around, spacious and big, -** he ordered to the moral in whose apartment he stayed for the night. The human nodded and went off somewhere. With magic and demonic power to influence human minds he didn’t even need money to take anything he wanted.

The mortal brought him a bunch of newspapers and showed the pages with house rent. Magnus had found something interesting in the first one already – a huge loft in Brooklyn, wherever that was, could be rented. One call (and Magnus made a mental note to learn about the telephones, the were like an analog to fire messages, it seemed) later and he had to leave and meet the owner of the place he wanted.

Magnus didn’t forget to erase the memory of the mortals who gave him shelter for this night, leaving them a bit dizzy and dazed. He didn’t need them anymore.

An elderly woman, trying to grant this loft on lease and move to her grandchildren, was nice, if a bit importunate. Magnus didn’t even flinch, adjusting her memories, memories of a lawyer and all the paperwork with a snap of his fingers. Now he was a one owner of the place.

The loft was nice, spacious and empty, walls made of red brick and windows high and wide. Magnus adjusted it a bit, making it homier with some red window glass and silk wallpaper. The light of the sun now didn’t bother him anymore, the tinted windows making everything dimmer, giving the space inside the colors of Edom sky. The armchairs appeared out of thin air and Magnus couldn’t care less about where he had stolen them from. The bedroom was arranged in oriental style. With a podium for a bed, too much small cushions and silk bed sheets, dim lights and nice patterns on the walls. He established himself in his new home with all the carefulness and attention he could manage.

It was nice, to have a place all for himself, decorated like he wanted to, without nosy demons and father to snoop around.

He went out after a while.

1988th was not like 1150th at all. Western cities now were too big and too crowded, houses tall and detached, people different from the ones Magnus vaguely remembered from his childhood. He wandered around, took some books from a random bookstore found on the way, not bothering to pay for them, drank some coffee – and what a nice drink it was.

Magnus actually didn’t try to kill anyone. His demonic fury was not something he was born with. While lesser demons, empty-headed and brainless, with only instincts and no thoughts in their ugly heads, went on a killing spree once summoned and set free, and the greater demons bringing the patience in themselves with so much effort, Magnus nature was quite peaceful. It was raised in him, the temper and the rage, something, that was nearly impossible to live without in Edom. And while lesser and greater demons would be struggling to keep themselves calm, it was quite nice for Magnus just to live his life.

He did search for the downworlders too. But nothing came up. Sometimes he thought he sensed something, but that feeling led to nothing. Well, Magnus could wait. He waited for eight hundred years to see the places and creatures from his books, what will be a few more days, months or years? He will find someone after all.

He could try to steal through the wards and into the Institute, but didn’t feel like that yet. He needed to learn more to do that. The wards of the Institute were made special for keeping the demons and their spawn away and Bane was curious what could be hidden inside.

After returning to the loft – _returning home,_ Magnus corrected himself, he needed to remember calling this place home now – he began to place his wards on it, slowly and carefully. He protected his house with demonic magic, so it would be nearly impossible for a shadowhunter to come in uninvited. Magnus tried to make his spells discreet and hidden, after all, he didn’t need a new alarm in the Institute and the hunters coming here in the middle of his work. He did everything and, in the end, could loosen up a bit, showing his wings and the tail and his aura visible in the safety of the loft.

That was hard.

There was a feeling in his chest, like he couldn’t spread his wings enough, like it was hard to do so. The earthly magic, or, more correctly, the abundance of it, made his wings feeble and weak. Only when he became furious of his weakness, he felt the power line from Edom becoming stronger and filling him with so needed strength.

The mortal realm tried to make him mortal as well.

That was terrible. That was truly scary, to become one of those pathetic little creatures, to become one that he always looked upon, mere worms, weak and dull. To become someone like his flabby mother. That was not what he came for here. The tie to the _ley-lines_ of Earth through the mortal soul made him like this.

Magnus desperately hoped he will find some downworlders soon. He needed their souls, so he will have a connection with a mortal realm without any of the shortcomings. Just one human soul made him lesser of a demon already, baring his mortal part.

The days were going on and on like that, with a feeling of him slowly becoming something less than he always was, until one fateful night.

Magnus stand on the road looking up, where a dark shape of a signboard could be seen under the light of new moon and stars, reading “Hotel Dumort”. This hotel was _reeking_ of something demonic.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments make me function  
> Sorry I didn't post anythig for, like, two month? Oh, that's bad

Magnus was confident, as usual, when he went up the stairs to the grand entrance of the hotel. With his head held high, he looked regal and calm. Something rustled inside and Bane heard the sound of light footsteps. It was so low and soft that he had to strain even his demonic keen hearing.

Magnus made a bee-line to the entrance and pushed the door, not thinking about the danger. He was sure that no one infected with one of demonic viruses, vampire, werewolf or anyone else, wouldn’t be able to harm him. In any case, he knew some tricks that Merihim, the Greater Demon of diseases, taught him. Of course, it wasn’t for free – Magnus didn’t even know if half of the things demon told him, was true – but some of the tricks were real and useful.

The footsteps became distinct, now there was rustling all around him. The clapping of wings and soft voices, murmuring, speaking – Magnus heard everything. He knew that the vampires, probably, were wondering what could a primitive do here, in the heart of the Shadowworld. Surely, Magnus looked like a primitive, a mere mortal, and that cost lives to his enemies, considering him too weak for Edom. But Magnus was a true child of his father, cunning and hard-hearted.

He was cruel, but that was a necessity in a place such as Edom. Edom never accepted any weaknesses and a fate crueler than death awaited for anyone considered too caring and weak. Magnus never was like that.

Bane shook his head and sighed.

 **– There, there, –** Magnus rolled his eyes and smiled softly. **– No need to try to attack me. That would be pointless.**

Of course, he didn’t think that vampires would listen. He wouldn’t listen to someone speaking so mockingly. And that was his plan.

Magnus was in a desperate need of a contract and he didn’t have enough time to convince anyone before this realm will defeat him and make him powerless. He had to overpower this awful fate. He had to win over vampires, had to make them want his power. And what would be better for that than a good old fight?

The rustling became louder and, a few seconds later, a vampire jumped from the higher floor. His landing was light and gracious. A few more appeared from the dim corners. Magnus was sure they were annoyed with his words.

Magnus sighed, the vampire was too eager to fight, too young and foolish. A ball of fire put off his enthusiasm lightly. Magnus’ magic sang in his veins, here, between someone like him, between demonic creatures his blood was as strong as ever. Even being near vampires was helpful enough for his essence that was profaned because of his contract with a mortal.

When a few of the vampires were on the floor, some of them burned to death and some groaning with pain, a woman came down. Magnus kept a vigilante wath on her, her movements light and gracious. She had a fleur of ancientness around her. She couldn’t be older than Magnus, but she still could remember that old good times when the demons were roaming free on Earth.

The woman was beautiful, her long wavy hair were glowing in the moonlight like molten gold, her face gorgeous and skin perfect. She knew of her beauty quite well and used it with the easiness of hundreds, thousands of years of practice. In her posture, in the way of her showing herself – Magnus saw everything in her heart and her soul. And he liked what he saw.

 **– Who are you? –** the woman asked. There were not a hint of caution or fear in her voice that she surely felt.She didn’t look at the bodies scattered all over the floor and she didn’t come nearer to Bane. Not that he couldn’t kill her, if he would have to.

Of course, he didn’t say that aloud.

 **– My name is Magnus. Magnus Bane, –** he answered. There was no need to lie. **– I am a demon.**

*******

Camille Belcourt wasn’t bad or rotten inside, even if Magnus wanted to say that. She was nice, she knew the price of her beauty and strength and immortality, she was a bit egoistical and fickle, as any pretty woman would be. She knew how everyone looked at her, gorgeous, godly in mortals’ eyes, and she forgot that she was no god. Immortality did that to people.

She signed the contract without any fear, not sure that she will die, ever… Or that she had a soul to give up.

_But she had._

Even with their human bodies befouled with a virus, all the vampires still had their souls trapped inside of distorted flesh. And Magnus wanted to take them, to pierce his teeth into something that he needed so desperately, to drink the energy of souls, suffering and crying for mercy and become stronger, bigger, greater. A demon, not a puny mortal that this realm made him into.

Magnus feared that this was what his father wanted. To make him weak, to kill all the resistance that Magnus had.

Magnus trusted his father. Not fully, but he knew he wouldn’t kill him… In the nearest future. But he also knew that Asmodeus will gladly take any chance that will make Magnus more dependent on him. His demonic essence could never accept someone strong near him.

Actually, that was the root of all the demonic wars: fear. Every Greater Demon feared, that others will find their weak spots and literally will eat them alive in search of power and authority. There were no children and parents, lovers and friends in Edom, everyone suspected others, everyone was ready to fight for their place under the wan Edom sun. That was everythin Magnus knew of life and he didn’t want to change that.

 **– I will call you when you will be needed, –** Camille smiled. It was a sweet false smile and her fangs could be seen between her full, rosy lips. Magnus answering smile was as nice as hers, every one of his forty two teeth sharp like a shark’s. His eyes, inhumanly yellow, shined with the inner glow of returned powers.

He was a demon once more and he didn’t want to lose this part of him, Never again.

*******

The white book, Sepher-ha-Razim… Magnus could never guess that he will find such a treasure in the hands of a vampire, in a small, filthy world of mortals. Camille gave it to him not because of her inner love for Magnus or some goodness in her, no. She was just trying to derive some benefits from the contract. Everything she did for him, every drop of magic, every soul – no matter vampire’s, werewolf’s or faerie’s – bound to him with a contract that Camille, with her wicked fast tongue and good looks could make for him, everything gave her some privileges. And, of course, she wanted Magnus to accompany her to the Ninth Covenant that was going to take place in the shadowhunters’ Institute a few years from now. He had about four years to find a way to come and go to the Institute without making the alarms go off every time and disguising his demonic aura.

He had to find a way to do that and not because of Camille’s will, but for his own safety and curiosity too.

Camille stared at him when he opened the book and it seemed like something he did made her even more aware of his inhumanity. Surely, now she believed him fully.

 **– No one could open it, you know? –** she said, motioning to the book. It was in a shockingly good condition, all the pages intact, words easy to read and small schemes clear. Camille bent forward and couldn’t restrain a disappointed sigh. In this world, Magnus was sure, it was only him who knew _purgic_. He smiled.

Camille huffed an annoyed breath.

 **– Don’t forget that you are mine now, –** she warned and Magnus had to gather all his inner strength so he wouldn’t laugh smugly in her face.

Truly, mortals, even with a drop of demonic blood and magic in their veins, still were mortals. Too foolish, too easy to win over. Even this woman, smart and cunning, relaxed after the contract was signed. Magnus was old, Magnus learned enough tricks to throw off the rein of the contract. He could do anything, he could kill the contractor with a thousands of ways and not a letter of the contract will shatter. He was good in this, in all the demonic ways to keep strictly to the letter of it but not to the spirit. And, of course, he was good enough not to show this.

 **– As my lady wishes, –** Magnus answered sweetly, shutting the book and making it disappear in a wave of magic.


End file.
